Quotes About Trauma

Never shall I forget those moments that murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams to ashes. Never shall I forget those things, even were I condemned to live as long as God Himself. Never.

Men to the left! Women to the right! Eight words spoken quietly, indifferently, without emotion. Eight simple, short words. Yet that was the moment when I left my mother.

Never shall I forget those moments which murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams to dust. Never shall I forget these things, even if I am condemned to live as long as God Himself. Never.

Un giorno riuscii ad alzarmi, dopo aver raccolto tutte le mie forze. Volevo vedermi nello specchio che era appeso al muro di fronte: non mi ero più visto dal ghetto. Dal fondo dello specchio un cadavere mi contemplava. Il suo sguardo nei miei occhi non mi lascia più.

Faster! Faster! Move, you lazy good-for-nothings! the Hungarian police were screaming. That was when I began to hate them, and my hatred remains our only link today. They were our first oppressors. They were the first faces of hell and death.

NEVER SHALL I FORGET that night , the first night in camp , that turned my life into one long night seven times sealed . Never shall I forget that smoke . Never shall I forget the small faces of the children whose bodies I saw transformed into smoke under a silent sky . Never shall I forget those flames that consumed my faith forever .

Men to the left! Women to the right! Eight words spokern quietly, indifferently, without emotion. Eight simple, short words. Yet that was the moment when I left my mother.

A novel about Auschwitz is not a novel—or else it is not about Auschwitz.

I belong to a traumatized generation that often felt abandoned by God and betrayed by mankind. And yet, I believe that one must not estrange oneself from either God or man.

Faster! Faster! Move, you lazy good-for-nothings!" the Hungarian police were screaming. That was when I began to hate them, and my hatred remains our only link today. They were our first oppressors. They were the first faces of hell and death. They

One day I was able to get up, after gathering all my strength. I wanted to see myself in the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. I had not seen myself since the ghetto. From the depths of the mirror, a corpse gazed back at me. The look in his eyes, as they stared into mine, has never left me.

she flew over the handlebars head on into the license plate.

My earliest memories are of fear, as are pretty much all the memories that come after my earliest memories.

This is what rituals are for. We do spiritual ceremonies as human beings in order to create a safe resting place for our most complicated feelings of joy or trauma, so that we don't have to haul those feelings around with us forever, weighing us down. We all need such places of ritual safekeeping.

So much of what we do each day is a diversion from what our lives are really about. A traumatic event is like a knife slicing through our diversionary tactics and exposing the vein of truth—the truth of what we really want, of how we really feel, of the wrongs we have visited upon each other, of the love we crave from each other.

For girls who've been pressured into sex they didn't want, growing into a woman's body can be terrifying. Anorexia and bulimia can be an attempt to say no, to assert control over their changing bodies. Compulsive overeating is another way.

I have never known a patient to portray his parents more negatively than he actually experienced them in childhood but always more positively--because idealization of his parents was essential for his survival.

remembering better times whereas naming no names some of us would rather not remember something some of us have got enough bloody nightmares already

No había dinero en el mundo capaz de pagar sus favores, porque la constante penetración del macho no era solamente a su himen maltratado, sino que iba hasta la pulverización de todo sentimiento humano.

Ze weten het. Die daemondingen. Ze weten hoe ik dieren haat... Dat luipaard. Ik heb er jaren nachtmerries van gehad. Vroeger hield ik van dieren. Zij hielden ervan... pap en mam. Ze wijdden hun leven aan de bescherming van dieren tegen stropers. Na hun dood deed elk dier me aan hen denken.' - Nick 'Ik denk dat ik dat net zo voel. Maar je weet dat het niet de schuld was van dat luipaard.' - Claire

I read the cheery caption, about how award-recipient Harris Blanchard "took a gap year, but is certainly making up for it!" So that's what they are calling it now—the time before and after he stood trial for the rape of my daughter. A gap year.

Oh, and I'm dependent on antianxiety meds, the only therapist I ever had died from a fall down a flight of stairs, and there's a viral video of me losing my mind at a public event, taken just before my own arrest. I'm not what anyone would call a reliable witness.

Joan once told me she thought compartmentalizing gets a bad rap—especially when it comes to people like us, who have been through something so traumatic; ignoring it for long periods of time can be a means of survival. When you've been through fire, you can't feel that burn every day, she explained. You have to go on with your life.

The more I researched Alger, the more I believed "bootstrapping" was a story line emerging out of the ashes of Alger's own personal shame for his pedophilia and the trauma he inflicted on others. His life story morphed from his longing for young boys into the ultimate story of young boys' exerting mastery over the adults and the world around them, perhaps his own identification with his powerless victims.